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Lost in the moment, it took me three blinks before I realized he was kissing me in the most unexpectedly clichéd way, with his warm hands cradling my face.
I didn’t mind at all.
My body responded to the delightful sensations zipping through me, and I found myself kissing him back, pulling him closer to me by his neck, and loving the subtle flavor of Kopiko candy. My heart thumped, and all I wanted was more. This was what I never knew I was missing. A passion like never before.
When he broke the kiss, I wasn’t ready. He was like a dream that I only woke from because he was too good to be true.
“It’s Kopiko,” he breathed out as he pulled away, leaning his forehead briefly against mine. His hands squeezed my shoulders to keep me from falling. For a second there, my brain went foggy, as if he’d been spinning me around for hours and I’d let him because it had felt so bizarrely hot. But before I could even say a word, he turned on his heel and walked into the house, leaving me without anything to hold on to.
Literally nothing.
A Threat At The Wrong Time
“It’s Kopiko?”I swore this post-kiss statement made me want to slam my head against a wall so I would collapse and never wake up from this humiliating experience. Not to mention, the kiss was uncalled for. However, one of the perks about being a werewolf was that I could hear her heart skipping a beat when I kissed her.
I don’t know if it was the news that I might die soon that threw my thoughts into a spiral, but suddenly, I worried I had it all wrong.
Maybe I hadn’t heard her heart beating … but my own, instead. Maybe her pulse hadn’t even skipped a little the way mine had. Maybe I only imagined the way her lips parted, the way her fingers gripped me. Maybe.
It was fine. Death had already been knocking on my door; I didn’t want to be the guy who never did anything about his feelings, not anymore.
Still in shock, I entered my room, the reality of what I’d done crashing down as the rush of the kiss faded.What if she didn’t like it? What if she didn’t want to be kissed? What if it made her hate me more? Should I shift into my wolf form and stay that way forever so she wouldn’t have to see my face?
I sighed, slamming the door behind me. My head fell back as I clawed at my chest, the weight of losing Aera crushing me.
It’s over now … isn’t it?
A chill crept up on me. I looked straight ahead, and my stomach twisted at the sight of the bloody mess before me.
I must have been hypnotized by the kiss that I didn’t notice it earlier, but there it was: a white horse’s head covered in blood and dirt, resting in the middle of my bed.
The pungent smell of death made me retch as I looked closer at the horse head and read the note on its forehead. It said: “You asked for it. - RDL.”
Way to ruin the mood, Rainer de Luca.
* * *
My room had always beena place of chaos: my clothes and socks tossed everywhere, empty food wrappers and bottles jumbled on the table, but it was never gory. If it wasn’t for my extensive experience on how to tidy up a crime scene or … something similar, such as the dead horse—a symbol of broken friendship—it would’ve been a real disaster.
After packing the head in a pillowcase, I thoroughly scoured my room with bleach and changed my sheets. Cole and Aunt Suzy weren’t home yet, so I was able to avoid an interrogation.
I went straight to Crescent Lake with the blood-soaked sheets and horse head concealed in my makeshift sack.
The cabin’s lights were on when I arrived. The pack were laughing boisterously over a joke Huxley had shared as the smell of barbeque wafted from the open door.
I left the door ajar before coming in to greet everyone, holding onto the horse head.
“Hey,” was all I needed to say to steal everyone’s attention from the food on the table. “Rainer gave me a parting gift.”
The pack stopped eating, and their gaze shifted from me to the bloody pillowcase.
“How exciting …” Gretta removed a piece of rice from her yellow pixie cut. She sniffed the air, and so did the rest, all of their happy faces fading into disgust. “Actually, it smells awful. Is that a horse head?”
With a forced smile, I offered the horse head to the pack. “Additional meat?”
Huxley retched. “No, thank you.”
“Right,” I agreed and tossed the bag outside.
